


Cuddle Up A Little Closer

by bluecurls



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: And about Steve's butt, Darcy Lewis thinks lots of things, F/M, Friends to Lovers, His friends think he needs to get his head out of his butt, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Steve Rogers needs new friends, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 20:16:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9200588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluecurls/pseuds/bluecurls
Summary: GlynnisIsta8's birthday is January 8!There was a request on tumblr for Darcy/Steve-centric fics to celebrate. Since that's how I'd want to celebrate my birthday -- which also happens to be January 8 -- how could I resist?Please note: I do not own anything related to The Avengers, and if Marvel would like to take this story and include it in Infinity Wars, I'm completely OK with that. The story's title is taken from the Dean Martin song of the same name.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GlynnisIsta8](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlynnisIsta8/gifts).



> GlynnisIsta8's birthday is January 8!
> 
> There was a request on tumblr for Darcy/Steve-centric fics to celebrate. Since that's how I'd want to celebrate my birthday -- which also happens to be January 8 -- how could I resist?
> 
> Please note: I do not own anything related to The Avengers, and if Marvel would like to take this story and include it in Infinity Wars, I'm completely OK with that. The story's title is taken from the Dean Martin song of the same name.

Steve heard her before he saw her – and it wasn't because to his serum-induced hearing, either. Darcy’s laugh was unapologetically loud. It was one of the (many) reasons Steve liked (“Like? That’s what we’re calling it now?” “Shut up, Bucky!”) her. He felt his lips curl up in an automatic smile as he walked to the kitchen, but it quickly fell when he saw the reason why Darcy was giggling.

She was standing in front of the stove, stirring something in a massive pot – beef stew, Steve’s nose informed him. Clint was practically plastered to her back. The archer had one arm around Darcy’s waist, his fingers tickling her ribcage as he tried to wrestle to spoon out of her grasp.

“No!” Darcy shrieked. “Bad archer!”

Steve schooled his features to give away nothing as he hooked a foot around the leg of a stool at the breakfast bar, pulling it out so he could sit. His stomach growled loudly at the possibility of food.

“Superheroes and their super-sized appetites.” Darcy rolled her eyes, but her smile was fond as she passed Clint a spoonful of stew, accepting his enthusiastic smack of his lips on her cheek as her due before she turned to pull bowls out of the cupboard. Clint, temporarily appeased, circled the counter to join Steve, giving the blond a friendly nudge with his elbow as he sat, licking the spoon like one would lick an ice cream cone.

“Manners,” Steve chastised automatically.

“Don’t have any,” Clint replied cheerfully.

“That’s right,” Darcy chimed in. “Our boy here _was_ raised in a barn.”

Clint took the ribbing in stride, especially when Darcy slid a large bowl of stew across the granite countertop. She did the same for Steve, placing a plate of cornbread muffins between the two of them before she finished preparing lunch for the scientist trio: Bruce, Jane and Tony.

“I can help.” Steve started to stand, but Darcy waved away his offer with a free hand as she hoisted the oversized tray over her shoulder with one hand, a holdover skill from years of working in diners before Jane accepted Tony’s offer to work ~~for~~ with him.

“Be sure to leave some for the others,” Darcy called over her shoulder as she entered the elevator that traveled to the lab floor. “I mean it, Clint! Captain America’s watching you!”

“I’m not the one he’s watching,” Clint muttered around a mouthful of stew.

* * *

Steve's crush (“When you say her name every time you beat off in the shower, it’s more than a crush.” “Shut up, Bucky!”) wasn’t the best-kept secret among several members of the team, though not for lack of trying. Bucky was a given. He’d known the guy practically all his life; there wasn’t much he could keep from him. Clint and Natasha were spies, for God’s sake, and Sam … Sam had a way of making people tell him things, an attribute he hated almost as much as the people who found themselves suddenly spilling their guts. Steve was grateful Tony was too wrapped up in science or Bruce to pay attention. There’s no way he’d keep his mouth shut otherwise.

_“Say something to her already!”_

_Steve dodged Bucky’s clenched fist and dropped in a low crouch to sweep the other man’s leg from under him. Bucky rolled out of Steve’s reach and flipped back to a standing position, grabbing Steve’s arm and tossing the blond over his back. Steve landed hard on the padded mat with an “Oof!” but was up before Bucky could pin him down._

_“It’s not the time,” he argued, barely out of breath despite how long they’d been at it._

_Bucky groaned and went after Steve again, outright tackling him to bring the bigger man down. “A girl like that ain’t gonna stay single forever,” he warned before letting Steve up to continue training._

Steve’s inherent stubbornness wouldn't allow him to admit Bucky might be right. Besides, Darcy was a modern woman through and through. If she liked a guy, she asked him out, just like that. He (unfortunately) had first-hand knowledge of this, having been with Darcy when she asked out the barista in town. (“Why’d you let me do that, Steve?” Darcy wailed after returning from what she called the World’s Dullest Date. “Now I have to find a new place to get my caffeine fix!”) Darcy treated Steve like a friend. _Just_ a friend. Steve told himself that was enough; he could always use more of those.

Still, as the team gathered for their weekly Movie Night, Steve couldn’t help but sigh as he sat in the oversized armchair. Darcy was already there, snuggled between Tony and Bruce on the lone loveseat. It was too small for the three of them. Darcy was practically in the other men’s laps, but no one seemed to care as Tony rested his arm along the back, his fingers idly playing with the ends of Bruce’s gray-streaked hair. Friday dimmed the lights and Steve forced himself to pay attention to _Die Hard_ (it was Clint’s turn to choose).

Steve knew nothing was happening between Darcy, Tony and Bruce. The two men were devoted to each other and while both had dated women in the past (many, many women, in Tony’s case), neither was looking to make Darcy the middle of their scientist sandwich. Darcy wasn’t a poacher; she was a cuddler. Steve lost track the number of times he stumbled on her snuggled up to one or more Avengers (and/or Jane) while watching TV, cooking, sciencing (“It’s a word if I say it is, Cap!”), reading … There wasn’t anyone she didn’t seek out for hugs and snuggles -- except him.

He tried not to take it personally, but he did. He was completely obsessed with finding Bucky when Thor first introduced him to Darcy, but she managed to break up his concentration “before he went banana balls crazy” with trips to the now-avoided coffee shop, marathon Netflix sessions, and one ill-advised shooting lesson on the range they agreed to never mention again. When Steve finally brought Bucky home, Darcy was the first to welcome him with open arms. Literally. She marched forward, hugged the former assassin tightly, then grabbed him by the (metal!) hand and dragged him to the kitchen, babbling nonstop about everything she made because she wasn't sure what he liked and wanted him to have a choice and not to feel bad if he didn't want something because Thor would eat whatever he didn't like.

She was a big believer in comfort food.

Bucky was overwhelmed during their first interaction, eating automatically with guarded eyes, but it wasn’t long before he was part of Darcy’s snuggles. Steve knew it was wrong to be jealous of his friend. Bucky had been through hell. He deserved every bit of kindness given to him.

But did it have to be Darcy’s kindness?

Steve decided to call it quits after _Die Hard_ , even though Clint insisted _Die Hard 2_ was one of those rare instances where the sequel was as good as the original, if not better; a claim that ignited a dispute that was increasing in volume as he made his way to his room, Darcy’s voice louder than the rest. He took a shower, pulled on a clean pair of boxers and a white T-shirt, and went to bed.

* * *

It was late when Steve shuffled to the kitchen. He was exhausted, his body bruised and beaten from the team’s fight. Since there was nothing medicine could do to help, he had to cope until the serum healed him. Normally, he’d sleep through the recovery process, but the incident was a clusterfuck from the second the team arrived and his mind was crowded with thoughts about what they should’ve done instead. They were lucky; no one was seriously hurt, but that didn’t ease Steve’s conscience. He was the team leader. All mistakes were on him.

He smelled chocolate. Only a light above the kitchen sink was on, but an empty pot on the stove clued him in to the scent: hot cocoa. Darcy. He turned to the seating area in the open space. Sure enough, there she was, tucked into a corner of one of the couches, swaddled in a poorly-crocheted afghan. The television showed highlights of the Avengers’ battle, with various talking heads weighing in on the team’s performance, though the sound was muted, probably by Friday since Darcy was softly snoring in her woolen cocoon.

Steve sat on the other end of the couch. He knew he should wake her. She’d call him a creeper if she saw him staring, but it was rare to come across Darcy like this. Still. Quiet. But always beautiful. He thought that from the moment they met, from her bright blue eyes that sparkled with mischief to her plump lips that looked as inviting without lipstick as they did with. Steve loved Darcy’s body, a throwback to the pinup girls of his day, but it was her hair that captivated him. The dark brown waves prompted fantasies that would shock the nuns. (“You always did have a thing for brunettes, Stevie.” He didn’t bother telling Bucky to shut up.)

Darcy shifted in her sleep, murmuring something he couldn’t make out. He placed a hand on her knee. He knew she had nightmares about the Destroyer and the Dark Elves, but she didn’t seem distressed. Still, he flexed his hand slightly, hoping her subconscious would recognize that she wasn’t alone. She was safe.

“Friday,” he whispered. “Please turn off the TV.”

The room darkened, the only light coming from the kitchen. Steve allowed himself to relax into the couch, letting out a low hiss as his ribs protested the movement.

“Steve?” Darcy’s voice was thick with sleep.

“Damn it,” he grumbled, taking his hand off her knee. “Sorry, Darcy; I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Mmm … ‘s OK. What time is it?”

He had no idea. “Late.”

Her eyes were closed as she fought against the blanket surrounding her. “Everyone alright?”

Steve lifted a corner of the afghan, smiling as Darcy untucked herself. “Everyone’s fine.”

Her eyes fluttered open. They were clouded with sleep, but narrowed when she saw the rainbow of bruises marring his face. “You’re calling that alright?”

He grinned, not caring that doing so reopened the cut at the corner of his mouth. “You should see the other guy.”

Darcy shook her head. “My hero,” she teased. “Still, it’s a shame all that pretty had to get messed up.”

Steve found himself preening at her words. “You think I’m pretty?”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Don’t go fishing for complements, Cap. It’s not becoming of a superhero.” She pushed herself off of the couch and stretched, raising her hands to the sky. Steve swallowed at the band of skin that showed when her long-sleeved shirt rose above her stomach. He made sure his gaze was elsewhere when she turned toward him. “But, since you saved the world, again, I’ll let it go.”

“Thanks, doll.”

She planted her hands on her hips. “Anything I can get you? Hot chocolate? Food? Supersized painkillers?”

He still had part of her blanket in his hand and he tightened his grip as she talked, worried she’d leave. He still had pain, but it was less noticeable with company. No, not company; with Darcy.

“I could use a hug.”

Darcy’s eyes widened. “What?”

The edges of the blanket were frayed. Steve picked at a loose thread, avoiding Darcy’s gaze. Why did he say that? It was stupid. He was stupid. They were friends. Next to Bucky, she was his best friend and now he had to open his big mouth and make things weird.

Peggy was right. He was shit at talking to women.

“Never mind,” he told her, hoping that he could blame Doom’s latest mechanical menace for his verbal blunder. “I’ll be fine in a few hours.”

He felt the couch dip as Darcy sat. “I just … I never took you for a cuddle guy.”

Steve’s head snapped up. “What?”

Darcy shrugged. “You’re always so, I don’t know, authoritative. Captain America, you know? The man with the plan.”

He couldn’t grasp what she was saying. “Darcy, I’m me. Steve. You know that.”

“Yeah, when we’re alone, but the second we’re not, you change. You become this different version of Steve. It’s not quite Captain America, but Captain Steve. You hold yourself taller and stiffer. You don’t smile as much and if you do smile, it’s not a real one.”

Steve thought back. Was what she was saying true? Yes, it was easy to be himself around Darcy, she had a way about her that made everyone comfortable, but when the others were around, he was so afraid to say or do anything that might tip her off about the depth of his feelings that he … “Fuck.” He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. The action pulled on his bruised ribs, but he was too mad at himself to care.

“It’s OK,” Darcy continued. “I mean, I get it. Your job is to save the world and mine is to make sure three geniuses don’t starve to death. It makes sense that other people need to see you as the leader while I get away with shooting rubber bands at Clint or trying to stick magnets on Bucky’s arm.”

Steve shook his head. He hated when people put themselves down. Darcy was amazing. Jane would have withered away to nothing years ago without Darcy looking over her. Bruce and Tony were together only because she refused to watch as they danced around each other (Tony danced; Bruce desperately tried to run the other way, but Darcy blocked his path). She cooked for the entire team, and planned activities that got them out of their room and interacting in non-violent (well, most of the time; Game Night was on permanent hiatus) ways. She made the training facility feel like home and the team feel like family. He took one of her hands, holding tight as he told her that, not letting the heat he felt on his face as he spoke deter him.

“And if I’ve given you the impression that I don’t value our friendship, it’s only because …“ He took a breath. It was time to lay his cards out on the table, even if it ruined everything. He couldn’t allow Darcy to keep thinking poorly of herself.

Darcy’s scooted closer to him, her head tilted as she regarded him. “Because what?”

Steve took a deep breath. “Because I like you,” he admitted. “A lot.”

“You do?” She squeaked.

He took a chance, leaning forward to press his lips to hers in a chaste, all-too-brief, kiss. If everything was going to hell, at least he’d have the memory of that moment – if she didn’t hate him for it. “Yeah. Have for a long time.”

She looked … Steve wasn’t sure. It wasn’t upset. More confused? Angry? He got his answer when she grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled. “You idiot! If you didn’t already look like a walking bruise, I’d smack you for being so stupid!” She punctuated her words with several tugs on his hair, but carded her fingers through the gold strands softly when she was through, her expression softening as she did so.

“I’m stupid?” Steve repeated.

“Hell yes, you’re stupid! I’ve been mooning over you for months!”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You have?”

“Why else would I spend all my free time with you?”

Maybe he had a concussion. That was the only reason why Darcy would say what she was saying. “You like me?” He needed to hear it.

“Duh.”

Steve shook his head. “Not good enough, doll. I need you to say it.”

“’Cause you’re stupid,” she reminded him.

“Real stupid,” he agreed. “The biggest idiot to come out of Brooklyn in this and any other year.”

Darcy rolled her eyes, but that didn’t stop her from crawling into his lap, her thighs bracketing his legs as she pressed against him. She leaned down, her lips a breath away from his, and whispered, “You’re an idiot, Steve Rogers, but you’re my idiot.” She kissed him softly. “Yes, I like you.”

He wrapped his arms around her, tugging until they were pressed against each other, ignoring the throb of pain that shot through his body. She liked him! He let one hand slide up her back to cup her neck, intent on pulling her in for another kiss.

“Get that smile off your face.” Darcy planted her hands on Steve’s shoulders. “There will be no fooling around until you’re 100 percent. I’m not going to be responsible for breaking Captain America.”

“I’m not broken,” he insisted.

“I saw you get slammed into a brick building! Twice!”

He flinched. It wasn’t his finest moment.

“It’s obvious you can’t be trusted to take care of yourself,” Darcy continued, moving off of his lap despite his protests, “so here’s what we’re going to do. You're going to get comfortable while I make us cocoa. I’m going to snuggle next to you if, and only if, it doesn’t bother you and don’t you dare try to lie to me, mister, because you’ve been lying for months and that stops now, got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good,” she nodded. “We’re going to watch cartoons until we fall asleep and tomorrow, if you’re better, I’m going to show you everything we could’ve been doing if you hadn’t been so stupid.”

He forced himself not to imagine what she meant by that. “You were a little stupid, too, Darcy.”

“Yeah, but you’re practically 100. At your age, you should know better.”

* * *

He didn’t remember falling asleep. One minute he was slouched in the corner of the couch, pillows tucked around his body and his feet resting on the coffee table, with a mug of hot cocoa in his hands and Darcy snuggled next to him, her hand drawing idle shapes on his stomach as she watched SpongeBob and Patrick wreak havoc on the television screen, and the next he was being poked in his side by an insistent finger.

“Go away, Bucky,” he grumbled.

“Really?” Darcy laughed. “Just how close are you two?”

Steve’s eyes snapped open. He was still in the sitting area of the Avengers common room. Sunlight streamed through the wall of windows, beams of light dancing across Darcy as she grinned at him. Her hair was a tangled mess around her head and there was a trace of hot chocolate on her upper lip. She never looked more beautiful. He sat up to kiss her, his tongue darting out to lick away the evidence of their late-night treat.

“Feeling better, I take it?”

“Much.”

She ran her hands over him, humming softly as she gently pressed against his ribs. Steve captured her hands in his and brought them to his lips. “You keep that up, doll, and Tony’s gonna have to buy a new couch.”

“We should probably take this to my room,” she agreed, getting to her feet. “I’d feel better taking advantage of you after a thorough examination.”

Steve pushed himself off the couch. “How thorough are we talking?”

* * *

The next time Bucky heard Steve say Darcy’s name in the shower, her cry of “Steve!” quickly followed.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday, GlynnisIsta8!


End file.
